When I lived in Tulsa, I used to lie in bed at night and listen to trains passing by. Often, it was a lullaby that serenaded dreams of being in faraway places. But, when I felt alone, there was no sound that made me feel lonelier.

Our bed is empty

Train whistle cries far away

I hug my pillow.

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1 Response to Empty

  1. Mike says:

    the line to nowhere –
    travelled nightly by lost souls
    craving redemption

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